


Cross-Species Liaisons

by CrackingLamb



Series: Fluff-uary 2020 Collection [2]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Destroy Ending, Disabled Shepard, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff-uary 2020, Mostly Everyone Lives, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Swearing, Tumblr Prompt, if you're reading this anywhere other than ao3 it's been stolen, please report it thanks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:22:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 17,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22529296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrackingLamb/pseuds/CrackingLamb
Summary: A simultaneous posting of prompts from tumblr.This fic will have two different Shepards (and at least two different relationships), each chapter will be headed with details regarding which one is which.NSFW chapters are marked for your convenience.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian, Nihlus Kryik/Female Shepard
Series: Fluff-uary 2020 Collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619764
Comments: 166
Kudos: 91





	1. Acts of Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> Jayne and Garrus, post Reaper War, living on Palaven while Jayne recovers from her injuries and Garrus gets back to the process of living normally as the Primarch's Assistant.

Jayne opened her eyes in the gloom of their apartment and saw the glow from the direction of the kitchen, as well as clanking and muttering. For a moment she groused to herself about missing windows, but she never did that for long. Palaveni sunlight was no joke to an unarmored human. She caught the sound of more muttering. It was low enough that her translator couldn't make sense of it, but she smiled just the same. Sounded like Garrus was doing the dishes, a task he loathed. _Turians were never meant to get so wet_ , he'd say with a scowl and she'd laugh, because he'd always change the subject when she asked how they'd washed anything on Palaven, including themselves, before the advent of sonic cleaners.

She shuffled to the side of the nest-like bed and sat up, taking a deep breath and waiting for the pain to set in. It was quite mild today, she noted, and braced herself to stand on her 'good' leg. Her right knee ached and she wasn't ready to put weight on the new prosthetic just yet. It still amazed her how much her already prosthetic limbs could mimic nerve response so faithfully. It had its good points, but this was not exactly one of them.

The _churp_ gifted to her by Solana as a companion raised his head from his spot on the far side of the bed's bowl shape. He chirruped at her, his golden eyes blinking slowly. She completely understood how the Palaveni equivalent of a domestic cat had gotten its name. _The Egyptians called them_ mau _, for the sound they made_ , she thought. She smiled and leaned over to pat his head and scratch under his chin.

“It's just me, Fuzzilla.” The _churp_ blinked again and tucked his head back down between his paws, the rows of plates along his back rippling. Truly, he wasn't what she'd call particularly fuzzy, but he _definitely_ reminded her of those ancient vids of Godzilla. Either way, he was a wonderful creature. He even used subvocals, which had made her laugh probably harder than necessary considering all the times she'd teased Garrus for 'purring'. It was funnier still how much Garrus doted on their pet when he'd always complained about her fish.

She reached for her crutches and swung herself with more confidence than she felt out of the bedroom and down the hall. She leaned on the doorway to the kitchen and watched him. His back was to her, his feet bare, tunic sleeves rolled back to his elbows, a towel thrown over his shoulder to lay bunched against his cowl. All the picture was missing was an apron. She could tell he'd been into the city, he was still wearing his 'uniform' as advisor to the Primarch. Reconstruction meant long hours, and he had to be as exhausted by his day as she was just existing through it as she slowly recovered from her Crucible inflicted injuries.

“Whatcha doin', babe?”

He jumped, even though she assumed he'd heard her clumping down the hall. When he turned, she saw his visor flashing with something. She smiled. At least he'd found something to distract him during the onerous chore. He must have been listening to it instead of hearing her come in.

“You were asleep when I got home. I knew you needed the rest, so I just...” a shrug, “got on with it.” He turned back to the sink overflowing with suds and dripping onto the floor. She bit her lip to keep from laughing. She didn't want to discourage him, after all.

“You _hate_ doing dishes,” she pointed out instead.

“You needed the rest,” he repeated, his talons scraping along a plate with a screech that made them both cringe. “And I wanted to do something for you, ease the burden.”

“Garrus...” she chided, only half-heartedly. He turned his head but didn't take his attention off the dishes.

“Don't think I don't know how hard it is for you stand here.”

“That's not...” she sighed and stopped. He was right of course, it _was_ hard for her to stand there. And since the apartment was a temporary one it didn't have such amenities as a dishwasher. She couldn't bitch; the Hierarchy was busy building them a home in Cipritine, but it needed better radiation shielding in the windows she was missing so much if she wasn't going to live her new life sealed constantly in a hardsuit. Given the alternative, she could graciously deal with no dishwasher until then. As it was, she was frankly embarrassed at how much care the turians were taking to make her feel at home on their world. Especially considering how much of it was in ruins.

She sort of slid into a chair that stood just inside the doorway, next to the table. Garrus went on washing dishes, muttering occasionally and carefully keeping his talons from screeching on the ceramic anymore. Fuzzilla came in and twined around her legs, his plates brushing her skin with a quiet rasp. She leaned down and let her hand trail over him, tugging just slightly on his short tail. A sort of peace came over her, watching Garrus as she pet the _churp_. They'd been through so much together, for so long, she hadn't ever dared to dream of a time when they could be so...domestic. After everything they'd survived, sitting here like this was pure bliss.

“Thank you, babe.”

He turned to her then, his mandibles flexing in a warm smile. “Of course. I want things to be easier for you here. I know that means I have to step up.”

She smiled at him. “I appreciate it.”

“You up for a walk when I'm done? The sun is setting and it's still lovely out.”

“Possibly.”

“We could always bring the chair.”

“You're going to push me too? After doing dishes?” she teased. “Who is this strange turian in my apartment?”

“The one who vowed for better and for worse.”

He didn't see her smile, since he was still facing away from her. He didn't see the trickle of tears either. Hell had been worth it to come out the other side with him still at her six. “God, I love you.”

He wiped his hands on the towel and bent over her sitting there, pressing his forehead to hers, the _churp_ twining between them and making a complaining noise that he wasn't the center of attention. “I love you too.”


	2. Banter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jayne and Garrus, on the Normandy SR-2 after Menae.

Garrus watched her approach down the metal stairs of the battery and his mandibles spread in a cautious smile. “Jayne.”

“Hey there. Everything up to spec?”

“Getting there. I don't know what the Alliance thought they were doing with this retrofit, but I'll get it fixed in no time. After what I've been through, it's going to be a vacation calibrating this giant gun.”

She snorted. Some things never changed. “Good.”

“So, is this the part where we...shake hands?” Garrus asked, his mandibles now drawn tight and his body held formally rigid. Jayne cocked her head at him, memory sparking through her happiness at seeing him again. She could barely believe here was here, back in his old haunting ground, with her through thick and thin once more. But there were things to address, and she knew it. Their last parting words felt too harsh now that they'd been apart so long. She carried some regret for those _being_ the last words she'd said to him, no matter how justified she'd felt at the time. Still, none of it mattered now that they were back together.

“Guess we don't really have a protocol on reunions, do we?”

“Last time we were reunited, you had just come back from the dead, and I nearly ate a rocket. Not exactly a good time for jumping directly into things,” he pointed out by way of agreement.

“Yeah, that's...fair.” Despite his stiff body language, his hands still settled on her hips, pulling her close. She wound her arms around his cowl. “I missed you, babe. So much.”

He dipped his head and touched their brows together, evidently relieved to hear her call him by the same term of endearment she'd used for years. “Me too.” 

“There was so much time on my hands,” she said teasingly, willing the ghosts of arguments past to fade. “I didn't know what to do with myself.”

His eyes said that he knew she was making light of it deliberately, but his mandibles were grinning. “Sounds rough. Are you going to need help with that later?”

“Later? You mean you aren't planning to drag me off right this second?” She made a moue of disappointment and he chuckled.

“You know me, I always like savoring the last shot before popping the heat sink.”

She groaned. “Babe...that was _horrible_.” He laughed harder, tinged only slightly with the awkwardness he'd never really overcome in all their years together. She'd never told him, but she found it endearing. She gave in and grinned at him. “Fine, I'll wait until later. But you better deliver.”

“Oh, you know I will.” Without warning he hefted her up against him by her hips and she fumbled for barely a second before wrapping her legs around his waist. He backed her up to the curve of the Thanix cannon and kissed her hard. His tongue swept against her bottom lip and she made a sound. He took advantage to slip between her teeth with a subvocal hum that vibrated through her chest.

“That's much more like it,” she whispered appreciatively when the kiss ended. “You goofball.”

He grinned at her, bracing her carefully against the cannon. He would have ducked back to her lips again but they heard the door to the battery slide open and the telltale clicks of talons telling them they had company of the important kind.

“Vakarian, you in here?”

They exchanged a quick look and Garrus put her back on her feet. She was incredibly grateful that the bulk of the Thanix hid them from view. Garrus seemed to know what she was thinking and his eyes sparkled with silent amusement. She leaned up and nipped his good mandible, changing that twinkle to a deeper gleam full of promise.

“I'll let you get back to work,” she said, stepping away from him to see their unexpected guest looking over the bank of consoles with a frown that disappeared as soon as he saw her. “Primarch Victus,” she greeted with a nod.

“Commander. Is Vakarian down there?”

“Yes, sir,” Garrus answered for himself. “Just...doing some calibrating.”

Jayne missed a step and stifled the bark of laughter threatening to escape. She looked over her shoulder at him, seeing the teasing gleam remaining in his eyes as he followed her out of the shadows. She shook her head. No doubt the Primarch now knew _exactly_ what they'd been doing, but he had the good grace to say nothing directly about it. He'd already seen them barely keep their hands to themselves on the shuttle ride back to the Normandy.

“Don't work too hard, Advisor,” Victus said, his tone wry. “I'm sure there is a lot of catching up to do with the Commander. And the team, of course.”

“Of course,” Jayne echoed, stilling her twitching lips before they betrayed her. “I'll see you later, Garrus.”

“I got the good stuff this time, shall I bring it?” he called, catching her just before she'd made good on her escape through the door. She heard Victus snort and dashed out without replying. _Turians_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For context, they did not part particularly well when Jayne turned herself in after Aratoht. And then they didn't see each other for six months.


	3. Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Garrus has the best kind of surprise planned for Jayne.

“What are you up to?” Jayne asked as Garrus expertly drove the groundcar down the shattered streets of Cipritine. He grinned from the driver's seat, his eyes alight.

“Stuff.”

“Are you going to tell me where we're going yet?”

“Nope, it's a surprise.”

“Ooh, you...” She sighed, not sure if she should be glad or suspicious of the gleeful look on his face. _She_ knew what day it was, but she didn't think anyone else did, or was going to do anything about it. Turians had different traditions. And yet, she never underestimated Garrus's thoroughness when it came to details, so she wondered what he'd done. He pulled the car into a wide parking lot, smoothly parking it in a handicapped spot near the entrance. Jayne looked up at the familiar building where she put in a few hours a week as the Human Ambassador to the Hierarchy and made a face. “Garrus, this is my office.”

“Not tonight, it isn't.” He stepped out from the car and came to her side, opening what amounted to a lead-lined umbrella over her side so she was shaded from the harsh Palaveni sun, still high in the sky. She leaned heavily on his free arm as she stood up, a stout cane in her other hand. An ache was already setting up in her right knee. He saw her twinge and tightened his grip on her automatically, taking more of her weight. “Tonight, since this is the closest thing we still have that's an Embassy, everyone is here.”

 _Everyone_...she mused. What tricks did he have up his sleeve? 

They walked slowly into the building and Jayne blinked at the sudden gloom inside, trying to adjust after the brightness outside. “Happy Birthday!” numerous voices shouted, and the lights came back on.

“My God,” she gasped, looking around at the assembled faces. She spotted the chrome plating of EDI's head and Joker standing next to her, leaning on omni-canes. Ash and James stood next to them. On the other side of the room was a contingent from the Primarch's office, including Victus himself, grinning like a cadet. Castis and Solana were there, Sol holding something wrapped in her hands that was literally dripping coiled ribbons. Dr. Chakwas was in their midst, arm in arm with Theis, who looked smug. And there, pushing his way to the front of the crowd...

“Shepard!”

“Wrex! How on Earth...I mean on Palaven...what are you _doing_ here?”

The hulking krogan hefted her into his arms, hugging her tight. He set her back down carefully – far more carefully than she thought he knew how – and grinned his shark's grin at her. “The kid pulled strings with the Primarch. I like the leg,” he added, giving her a once over. “Very...what do you call it? Cyberpunk.”

Jayne nodded, unsure where to begin to unpack the idea that her krogan friend knew about human sci-fi genres. She looked at Garrus instead, who was nearly exploding with happiness at seeing how well his surprise had gone over. “You did all this?”

“I had some help.” He scanned the crowd, looking for someone. A tinge of disappointment colored his subvocals as he evidently didn't find who he was looking for. When he turned back to her, though, he was smiling again. “C'mon, you are the guest of honor. We have a comfortable chair for you.”

He led her to one end of the atrium where the party was being held to a chair that made her laugh. Built of sturdy, dark Palaveni wood and cushioned with a tasseled monstrosity of a pillow, it looked remarkably like the ancient British royal throne. He helped her get comfortable, and tucked a low stool under her right leg to support it. From there, something of a receiving line began as the guests came by to offer their well wishes and presents. Sol's gift turned out to be several bags of whole bean coffee, imported from Earth and brought with Dr. Chakwas. There was a feast of food, both chiralities of course, and everyone joined each other at long tables reminiscent of a school lunchroom, various races mingling together in one big happy bunch.

Halfway through the dinner – with Garrus and his family on one side of her and Wrex on the other – a voice called out from the door. “Sorry I'm late,” Liara announced, beaming. “I had to make a stop to pick some people up.”

Tali and a geth that looked remarkably like Legion stood on either side of the asari and Jayne nearly lost her plate from her lap she was so suprised. “Shepard-Commander, we offer sincere felicitations upon your successful revolution around the primary.”

“Thank you.” The head flaps waved and she laughed, wondering just how long Tali had coached the geth in saying that. She knew geth still used mobile platforms, but she hadn't known Legion's had been saved. She couldn't wait to catch up and see what the Consensus was up to now.

Tali hugged her, her suit now bearing a clear face mask so she could see her friend's dancing silver eyes. “Took me forever to filter through the runtimes to find enough of him to come back. Once I had a few they seemed strangely excited by the project.”

“I'm so glad you did. I've missed him.”

The geth stood by, seemingly at odds with how to react to this, and she caught sight of the platform twisting its fingers the way Tali used to do when she was nervous. “We represent eight hundred and four of the runtimes that were once uploaded to this platform. It has been...an interesting experience, reliving these stimuli.”

“That's good to hear. Can I still call you Legion?”

“Yes, for we are many in this place.” The head flaps waved again and she smiled, remembering when EDI had named him that. Evidently, the runtimes did too.

“I'm very happy to see you, Legion.”

“We thank you, Shepard-Commander, on behalf of the Consensus. We would not exist if not for you and Creator-Tali'Zorah.”

They moved off, mingling and reuniting with the members of the Normandy crew and a sense of peaceful fulfillment filled Jayne. She took Garrus' hand in hers and grinned at him. “Thank you, babe. This was the best gift ever, in the whole of the galaxy.”

“You're welcome, darling.” He pressed his mouthplates to the back of her hand, a turian equivalent of kissing it, and the gathered guests roared their approval. Jayne and Garrus laughed along with them. Finally, there was a sense of _rightness_ coming back to the galaxy, and even if a few faces were missing, she knew where those were and had plans to see them again soon.

“Happy Birthday, Jayne,” Garrus said softly.

“It is happy. It is the happiest I've ever been.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone lives in my galaxy. Everyone. *How* will be explained in the main series.


	4. Long Walks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Garrus shows Jayne a side of himself she hadn't known was there.

Garrus pulled the groundcar in at what looked like a pleasure park. There were silvery trees reaching for the sun, soft grass carpeting the low rise and a little ways off Jayne could see the river that bisected parts of Cipritine. It was amazing how untouched this place looked after the miles and miles of rubble still being cleared and rebuilt in the more industrial parts of the city.

“This is amazing,” Jayne said. “I didn't know there was anything like this here.”

Garrus flicked his mandibles. “Not everything turian is formal and hard.”

She gave him a playful swat. “You know what I mean. Idyllic landscapes and the aftermath of a galactic war tend to be mutually exclusive.”

He settled more comfortably in the driver's seat and gazed out at the thriving scenery around them. “This was one of my favorite places as a boy. Mom would bring Sol and me here and let us loose to run off the excess energy we'd always have after lessons.” He pointed upriver, to a curve where the flowing water had carved its way into the bedrock over countless millennia. “I used to sketch there, before Dad found out.”

“Was he really that upset at your interest in art?”

“No, not really. He just thought it was something I shouldn't become too invested in before doing my mandatory service. It was a fine hobby, he said, but not a career.”

“Hmm, what does he think now?”

He turned to look at her, a small, abashed smile on his face. “Now he's glad he stuck firm to that ideal. He thinks we wouldn't be here if I hadn't gone into military service.”

“He may have a point,” she conceded. “I know I wouldn't be.”

“Sure you would.”

“Oh, babe, I don't think so. No Shepard without Vakarian, remember?” 

“Hmph.”

He seemed almost embarrassed by how much faith she had in him, how much he gave her a reason for living. Sounded like for all his distance, Castis felt more of that than he let on too. She made a mental note to urge her father-in-law to buy some art supplies for his son for his next nameday. It would be better than coming from her. She already gave him her vocal support in everything. “So tell me, babe, why are we here?”

“I wanted to show you this spot, maybe take you for a walk. It's peaceful here and there's lots of shady spots.”

She smiled warmly. “So that's why you were so adamant about bringing the chair even though I hardly use it now.”

“Well, it's hard to enjoy the scenery if you're in too much pain to walk.”

“This is why I love you. You're so thoughtful.”

He grunted again, but now it was in self deprecation. He got out of the car and popped the trunk, pulling her mobile assist chair out and positioning it on her side of the vehicle. Once, she would have fought him over it, would have declared herself perfectly fit to walk along the path she could see hugging the riverside. Now, she was learning she didn't always have to be _Commander Shepard_. Now her burdens were fewer and she could admit to only being human. Just _Jayne Shepard-Vakarian_ , honored war veteran. Never mind that whole savior of the galaxy thing. At least hero worship among turians was founded in a strong sense of respect and not sensationalism. It made life among them downright pleasant compared to the fanfare she was greeted with on Earth.

She got out of the car, opening her trusty lead umbrella, and got in the chair, already hot from the sun. It felt good on the back of her right thigh, where the hamstrings were still tight as the new leg integrated. Garrus pushed her from the lot to the path, gravel crunching under the wheels and his feet. Funny how some thing transcended species.

He walked them into a shadier area and she could risk putting her umbrella away. He stopped in the curve where he used to sketch in his youth. She could see why he liked it so much, even during what passed for winter in Cipritine. The curve made a natural eddy in the river, and she could see dripping moss hanging down the far side where a ravine had formed. Little red ferns grew up between chinks in the stone, and shiny fish could be seen in the relatively calm water below. All in all, it was very picturesque.

“Let's walk for a little bit,” she said, locking the wheels and standing up. Garrus took her arm and helped her stay steady on the gravel. Her left foot planted fine, but the right one had a tendency to sink into the crushed stones, leading to the possibility of tripping. They walked as far as the shade kept her out of the blistering sun, then back to the chair. She had to admit by the time she sat back down that she was drained by the exercise. Walking on real terrain was different than on a treadmill in the confines of a gym.

Garrus took her to a few other places along the path, pointing out small creatures that were starting to come out of hiding now that the Reapers were gone. The ecosystem was recovering, just as surely as they were. Under the shade of a tree that reminded her of a weeping willow – only turquoise – they stopped again and looked around the expanse of the park.

“What are you thinking about, babe?”

“I'm wondering if we'll ever bring children of our own here.”

“That's the plan, isn't it? Adrien said the paperwork was all in order, although why that fell under his jurisdiction is beyond me.”

Garrus scowled at her, but only lightly. “Jayne, you shouldn't call the Primarch by his first name.”

“Why not? We're friends.”

“He's the _Primarch_.”

“And I'm the savior of the galaxy. That's got to be good for something. Pretty sure it means I outrank him.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Why do I get the feeling this is exactly how that conversation went down?”

She grinned back at him. “What makes you think it was ever in question? We spent a lot of time together, Adrien and I, before the Normandy came back.”

“It falls under the Primarch's jurisdiction right now because there's no one else to do it,” Garrus said, ignoring her tease about how much time she'd spent with Victus. He started them back towards the car. The sun was setting and while that meant a still reasonably comfortable air temperature for her, for him it was getting chilly. “There was once an entire branch of the Hierarchy dedicated to handling cross world adoption. The war has shaken up the whole meritocracy into a giant mess.”

“Well, I guess that makes sense. Someday, we'll be able to tell our children that their adoption paperwork was signed by the Primarch of Palaven. I wonder if they'll see how funny that is like I do.”

He chuckled. “Probably. Any child of yours is bound to end up with your sense of humor.”

“As long as they end up with your sense of everything else, I'm satisfied.” She reached back behind her head to grasp his arm on the handles of the chair. “You're a very good turian, you know.”

“You might be biased.”

“Hmm, maybe. Anything's possible.”

They reached the car and she got into the passenger seat while he folded up the chair and stowed it. He got in and started up the engine, a quiet hum that barely broke the silence of the evening. “Dinner at Atheya's?”

“Sure.” She leaned over and kissed his mandible before she belted herself in. She saw his grin from the corner of her eye and smiled back at him. Life was really was good, wasn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Internet was out all day until now, I have a headache and haven't edited this, so if you find any glaring typos, let me know.


	5. Heart-eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jayne loves to just look at Garrus. He, of course, has always loved to look at her.

Garrus was sitting in their bed when she limped into the room fresh from her shower, still wearing a towel loosely. He was propped up with a pillow and looking through his visor at something and he seemed to be coordinating with his omni-tool. She leaned against the doorjamb for a moment and watched him. She remembered back to the days when she first knew him – good lord, nearly 6 years ago – when they were just neighbors in the same block of apartments within walking distance to the C-Sec headquarters on the Citadel.

 _Such simple times_ , she mused. _No thought of Reapers, of war and death and devastation across a dozen systems_.

He hadn't noticed her yet, so intent was he on his work and she cataloged the differences those years had made. Obviously his scarred mandible and missing ear made the list, but there was more. His face wasn't as open, as expressive, as it once was. He didn't have the same aura of nervous energy. His plates were pocked and scratched, a litany of marks left by life as a C-Sec officer, a sniper, the one always on her six. He was thirty five now, a respectable adult in the eyes of the Hierarchy. And she was thirty three, cashiered out from the Alliance, on injured reserve as a Spectre.

The Primarch's Assistant and the Ambassador to Earth. They both had seen so much and carried so many responsibilities it was a wonder either of them could still stand up straight. But through it all, they'd had each other. She didn't think it was possible to love him any more than she did. Her gaze grew warm and soft as she watched him.

She scoffed lightly, realizing she was standing there looking at him like a lovesick idiot when she could be next to him. Could be touching him. The sound was enough to distract him from his work and he glanced up at her, doing a comical double take when he registered that it was her. _As if it was likely to be some other human standing in our bedroom door_ , she thought with a smile.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi. I thought you weren't supposed to bring work home.”

He closed down his omni-tool and lifted his visor off his head to place it on its charger next to the bed. “Wasn't work.”

“Oh?”

He got off the bed, a graceful roll that she was frankly jealous of these days, and came to stand in front of her, his talons trailing through the drops of water still dotting her skin from the shower. His eyes roved over the balls of her shoulders, tracing her amputation scars that were barely visible still. She watched his gaze get caught on her prominent collar bones and suppressed a grin. Some things never changed. The look on his face was more poignant than lascivious, but she knew it wouldn't take much to change that if she wanted to.

“No,” he continued, picking up the thread of the conversation. “I was looking at things humans do to stretch out their joints, keep their muscles limber.”

“You mean like massage?”

He grinned, his mandibles flexing. “Yeah.”

“So you were just taking notes?” she teased. He nodded, a bit sheepish. “Why now, babe? What's on your mind?”

“Well, you've had that new leg for nearly a year, and...well...”

She grinned. “You figured it would be healed by now?”

“Yeah, I mean...Sol's back to normal already. I mean...I don't want you to think that...”

“Hey,” she cupped his jaw in her hand, made him look her in the eye. “Miranda thought it would take longer because the Cerberus cybernetics don't want to talk to the turian ones. I'm right on schedule for what she thought it would be like.”

She leaned back a bit, sticking the offending leg out so they could both see the prosthetic, not that she needed any reminders of how weird it looked. It was curved like a turian lower leg, ending in a flanged prong rather than a foot. It had taken her quite a while to get used to walking on it; it was springier than she expected. Somehow the Hierarchy doctor who'd attached it to her existing prosthetic had matched her exact skin tone, so other than the obvious shape, it looked like her own leg. He'd even managed to remove the spur so she didn't have to get used to that too. She'd been thinking of getting it indelibly inked with the Vakarian colony markings, if that wasn't going to be disrespectful. She'd considered getting markings tattooed on her face, but didn't relish the thought of sitting for it, honestly.

She looked back up to him, and noticed that his expression had taken on a sort of worshipful aspect as he looked at her. She'd seen that look for years whenever he didn't think she was paying attention and she struggled not to give away the fact that she had. “Well, babe, if you want to rub me up and down, I'm not gonna say no.”

“What?”

She chuckled. “The massaging, Garrus.”

“Oh...right.” He took her hand and helped her across the room to the bed. Being of turian design, it was bowl shaped and laid thick with pillows and blankets. _Like a nest_ , she thought privately. In all their years together, she'd never gotten over the mental picture of turians curled up like cats in a basket. She just hadn't said anything. Garrus was looking at it now with a critical eye. “You can't actually lay completely flat in this.”

“Just noticing that now, are you?” she asked, laughing.

He shook his head, bemused at himself. “Guess I didn't really think about it.”

She leaned up and kissed his mandible. “I know. C'mon, let's sleep. You can figure it out later.”

She tossed her towel and sat at the edge on her side then sort of rolled into the mound of pillows that were there in lieu of a mattress. It was wonderfully comfortable and supportive – she knew Garrus had ordered firmer pillows than he normally would, to accommodate her human build. She lay on her back, only mildly angled upwards and watched him finish up whatever he had left of his nightly routine before he flicked off the lights with his omni-tool and got in beside her. She turned her head toward him and met his kiss, then felt him settle in around her, half cocooning her in his long arms.

She smiled in the dark, wondering if he even knew how much she loved him. She flopped onto her side and wiggled until she was comfortable with her back against his keel. He was already half asleep, but his arm tightened around her, holding her close. She closed her eyes and let sleep carry her away.


	6. Pillow Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henna and Nihlus, from Some Kind of Resolution. The night before Ilos.

It was difficult to cuddle with a turian, Henna had discovered. Bony plates and sharp edges didn't particularly go hand in hand with comfort and closeness. But they'd figured it out, little by little. They found other ways to give each other strength. No more was she the reasonably carefree Alliance soldier she'd once been, just as he was not as much the hardened lone Spectre he had once been.

That didn't mean she had the first idea of where this was all going, however. Curled up in the astonishingly unpleasant double bunk of the Captain's cabin, she faced him and watched his face settle towards sleep – what little turians needed of it – as they flew steadily towards Ilos. She knew it wasn't the right time to have this conversation, although maybe it was. They had no idea what faced them once they reached the Conduit. They still didn't even know what it was.

“Nihlus, what are we doing?”

He sighed a little, as if he'd been expecting this and had just been waiting for it to happen. His eyes met hers, boring into her with his customary intensity. There was just enough light from the glow of the terminals and their various datapads that she could see the faintest gleam of green. “We're taking the moments we have.”

“Is that all it is? Stress relief and companionship?”

“Isn't that what all relationships are for?” He was teasing now, she could see it in the set of his mandibles.

“C'mon now, be serious.” 

He lifted his head from the firmer of the two pillows on the bunk, the one she'd given him since he didn't complain about it. It always gave her a headache since it didn't seem to want to conform to the angle of her neck. “Henna, what's on your mind?”

Sometimes it was easier to say things in the dark. “I don't want this to just be about...convenience.”

“Henna...” He shifted around, propping himself on his arm. She was reminded abruptly of that first morning, when he'd looked at her in the light of day after a one night stand and didn't tell her that he'd be seeing her in a few hours because _he_ was the 'guest' their shakedown cruise had been waiting for. There were definitely times she wondered what cosmic force had brought them together. Then he'd gotten shot, and she'd been offered a chance to become something no other human had. And they'd been thrown into close quarters ever since. _Two Spectres fumbling their way through a cross-species liaison_ , she mused. _It's like a bad soap opera._

“Never mind,” she muttered, with the intent of letting it go and getting some rest. They were hopeful to catch Saren this time, not merely pick up the pieces of his trail. This entire mission from the start had been a race, always one step behind him.

Nihlus could move incredibly fast when he wanted to. His hand shot out to thread through her hair before she could roll over, and his touch, as always, stopped her breath in her chest and made her muscles tense with anticipation. Damn his turian hide.

“It's not about convenience,” he said softly, his voice dropping into a register he only ever used when they were alone. “I didn't know you still had doubts.”

“I just...” She sighed. She didn't want to make this heavy, yet she always seemed to. “When this is all over, what then? Do we move on to the next mission, do we stop working together? Go our own ways? Or do we try to make it work?”

“I want to make it work,” he said, firm and resolute. He smiled at her, tilted his head toward her so that his colony marks disappeared into shadow. He pressed his forehead to hers, a turian kiss. “You are dear to me. I have no interest in letting you go now that I have you. Never have.”

“Never?”

He chuckled and pulled her closer, pressing right up against her and cradling her in his arms in a way that made her forget the bunk was so horrible for two. “Henna, do you honestly think I would have taken you back to my hotel room the night we met if I wasn't interested? Do you think I would have kept coming back if I didn't want to?”

“Yeah, but that was just a casual thing,” she countered. He stopped her from continuing by kissing her in a human way, his mouth plates pressed to her lips, halting any words that might have tumbled out.

“And then it wasn't,” he said when he pulled away. He was grinning at her, silently teasing her for her folly in thinking he didn't actually want this. “You're so serious all the time. You worry too much.”

“I'm afraid to lose you,” she confessed, her eyes still closed. “I nearly did once and...”

“But you didn't. Nor will you. I can't promise bonding ceremonies and a houseful of children. You and I, we aren't meant for that kind of settling down. That doesn't mean we can't be happy as we are. Together.” He chuckled again, and his hand ran up and down her arm, tracing over her N7 tattoo. “You do have that big empty apartment now. It's far enough away from prying eyes.”

The rumble of his subvocals spoke more eloquently than his words that he meant he thought _she_ wanted to keep it private rather than himself. And she huffed a quiet laugh to herself. He couldn't be more wrong about that. She would happily tell the entire _galaxy_ that she was in love with a turian. She cupped his jaw in her hand, made sure he was looking at her.

“I won't hide it, Nihlus. I don't want to hide it.”

His mandible flexed against her palm. “Okay then. I want this. I want you. Human.”

She grinned at him sheepishly. She didn't mean to always be anxious about their relationship, but it was a strange one when she thought about it. A human and a turian. Two races who only a generation ago had been facing each other across enemy lines.

She slid her leg over his, tucking her knee around his, her calf brushing against his spur. “And I want you. Turian.”

She rolled onto her back, bringing him with her, feeling his weight settle on her. He moved himself around so their faces were level, pulling her leg up higher on him so he was resting against her center. He kissed her again. “Good,” he said softly, his voice a purr in her ear. “Show me how much.”


	7. Take Them Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jayne and Garrus relive an iconic moment.

The vid played out as Jayne sat rapt. _Turn here, catch his foot there, get bold and throw a leg up here...he pulls back, stretching them out in a long line of smoldering intent, the crowd begins to take notice._..

She remembered it so clearly, as if it was yesterday. _“You're gonna pay for this later...”_

 _“Promises, promises_.”

She'd paid him back by making eyes at James, who knew better than do anything other than shake his head at her and wordlessly tell her she was hot. She was hot back then, wasn't she?

 _His talons on her wrist, tugging her back into his embrace. The near flawless poetry in motion that he managed to somehow throw over her as well. Everyone knew she couldn't dance_. 

The vid was a bit shaky as the videographer changed position to get a closer view. She watched herself as Garrus twirled her around in tight circles, their heads bent together, her hands so easy and comfortable in his. She remembered that dress...

 _She could barely breathe, but didn't care once she saw him in his civvies. It was so rare, so precious. For a moment it didn't feel like role playing at all_.

The dance ended with him dipping her backwards, her hair too short to really do anything but look poofy. The vid didn't pick up on the words they'd shared, but she remembered them. _“So, think a girl would fall for that?” he asked, arch and supremely proud of himself for throwing her for a loop_.

“Oh hell yes,” she murmured aloud, as the vid started over from the beginning. She rubbed her right leg, stretched out on the sofa in their Palaven apartment. She couldn't dance like that now. Not in the shape she was in. Not when days like this, where pain kept her sitting around, idle, were still too common.

The door opened and Garrus came in, bearing two take out bags slung over his arm and still working on something on his omni-tool. She leaned on the back of the sofa to watch him and smiled. For someone who claimed to be a bad turian, he was doing a decent impression of a good one in these days of Reconstruction. Then again, with a Primarch like Victus, all of Palaven was getting a crash course on getting the job done, and screw the 'rules'.

“Hey, babe,” she said, drawing his attention from his last bit of work. He glanced up at her and flexed his mandibles in a grin, then saw behind her to the vid screen still showing their apparently infamous tango.

“Where'd that come from?”

“Kasumi sent it.”

“Kasumi Goto, notorious thief turned semi-philanthropic art dealer?” he asked, a slight edge to his voice. She'd never asked if that was because Kasumi had always slipped C-Sec's leash or because Jayne knew her personally and had never said anything about it.

“Yes, that Kasumi.”

“Where did she even get that?”

“From the camera angle, I'd say she took it herself.” He huffed and set their dinner down on the kitchen table, out of sight for a moment as he unloaded the last of his day. He came back to the living room and leaned over the back of the sofa, his talons idly toying with her curls, now longer than they'd been since she was 18.

“You know, I practiced those moves for weeks.”

“And you were _very_ good with them.” They shared a grin, one that turned bittersweet on her face. She missed those days, even with all the hell breaking loose around them. She was whole then, not some half broken thing that couldn't do more than sit on the couch and brood. Being an Ambassador sounded great on paper, but there wasn't much for her to do with travel still so sketchy. She was one of just a handful of humans living on the turian homeworld.

Garrus skirted around the sofa and did something between his omni-tool and his visor. The vid shut off but music started playing. “C'mere.”

“What are you doing?” she asked, feeling like it was three years ago and they were in a bar where he'd suddenly grabbed her hand and was pulling her all unwilling off a barstool. He hauled her into his arms as the tempo settled and she recognized the song.

“Garrus...”

“Shh, I've got you.” He didn't try to swing her around, or do any of the intricate steps they'd done that night, but they moved with the beat, their hands and bodies sure with each other. He gave her a pointed look and she gritted her teeth and lifted her right leg over his, just as she had before. The flare of pain was worth it to see his eyes darken like that.

He leaned back, pulling her along the length of his body, stretching her out and yet still holding all of her weight against him. The strain in her leg seized for just a second, then popped and released, giving her blissful relief from the pain. She chuckled and wondered if it would last.

“Who knew the tango was good for chiropractics?”

“I should have thought of this sooner.”

They stayed that way, even as the song moved on, his hands solidly around her supporting her comfortably. His strength was still indomitable. She leaned up and kissed him, cupping his mandibles in her palms. Eventually he set her back on her feet and stood up to his full towering height, but they didn't stop kissing. The song had ended before they came back to the present. Fuzzilla chirruped from the back of the sofa, eyeing his two housemates with something like bafflement. Jayne laughed.

“What's the matter, Fuzzle?” she cooed.

“At least he doesn't know you can't dance.”

She snorted and activated her omni-cane. Some days she didn't need it at all now, but most days – especially after dancing around with her husband – she was grateful for the extra support. She was grateful to Joker too, for sending her the code to upload the program to her omni-tool. “He doesn't even know what dancing is. C'mon, you. I'm hungry and the food's gotta be half cold by now.”

“I'm gonna take you dancing again,” Garrus promised as they sat down at the table in the kitchen. “One of these days.”

She leaned over to him and held his cheek. There were so many things to say, to feel. She couldn't even express all it encompassed. The fact that they'd survived, the fact that music and dancing still existed. The fact that no matter how broken she felt, he didn't see her that way. She couldn't sum it all up, but then again, he didn't look like he needed her to. “All right, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the time I started writing Racing Down the Barrel, I didn't have Kasumi's dlc, and so she doesn't appear in the fic. That doesn't mean she won't make an appearance later, though...
> 
> The idea for the omni-cane came from a piece of art on tumblr by @oddmott. Credit where it's due.


	8. First 'I Love You'**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nihlus finally has a chance to have Henna to himself...away from the ship and anyone who could hear.
> 
> *Please note the bump in rating, this is definitely NSFW*

“It's only a few weeks,” Nihlus said, packing up his things from the Normandy. With Saren defeated, his status as a Spectre had been returned by the Council and with it his duties. Henna herself was off on a clean up mission for stray geth. This would be their first time apart since they'd met. Literally.

“I know. I just don't like it,” she pouted playfully. He zipped up his carryall and swiped a talon down her nose.

“C'mon, we have a 30 hour leave before we both ship off. Let's get out of here and make the most of it.”

The Citadel had a wide range of things they could do, but apparently Nihlus already had plans. He called a skycar and took them to one of the finest hotels in the Presidium Ring. He was well known and they were ushered in like visiting dignitaries. Henna barely kept from laughing at how much the staff fell over themselves for him and just trailed along in his wake, amused.

It was less a _room_ and more a _suite_. It occupied the top floor, with a expansive view of the Presidium through shimmering kinetic barriers. Henna could just stare as Nihlus dropped his carryall and took her overnight bag. He let her wander to the bank of windows and looked at the room service menu on a datapad. She heard him come over to her when he was done and he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

“This is amazing, Nih,” she said.

“Not bad for a space station, huh?”

“Not bad at all,” she chortled. “So now what?”

He leaned over her shoulder and she felt his tongue flick against her ear. “Now I want you to get naked.” 

“Oh?”

“Oh, yes,” he growled, pulling on the tabs of her ship suit. She let him, helping him strip her down until she was just in her bra and underwear. The door chimed and he made a face, but shooed her towards the bathroom while he answered it.

She heard low voices out in the suite, as well as silverware clinking against dishes, while she inspected the spacious marble bathroom. There was a tub nearly big enough for an elcor, plus a glass enclosed shower with a ceiling high enough for even the tallest turians. The door opened a minute later and Nihlus strode in, dropping his pants on the way. She didn't often get to just admire his ruddy plates and tawny skin, and she looked her fill as he started up a steaming shower. He gave her a look over his cowl and shifted his brow plates around, a turian version of raising an eyebrow.

She grinned and shed her bra and underwear before going to his side where beckoned her. He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her into the spacious stall, following behind her and sliding the glass door shut, enclosing them in the steam. The hot water felt delicious, but so did his talons on her back, gently stroking across her shoulder blades and down her spine.

She hummed in pleasure and would have turned around to face him, but her held her in place, taking the handheld shower head and wetting her down on all sides. He seemed to like bathing her, she'd noticed. A small bit of care that never went overlooked by her. He picked through the selection of soaps and gels until he found one he liked and dribbled it across the back of her neck. The cold against the heat of the water made her shiver and he chuckled under his breath before spreading the scented gel across her skin with his hands. She relaxed into his touch, letting his hands wander freely across her.

His palms hefted the underside of her breasts before smoothing over the peaks, then traveled down her abdomen and sides to tease and torment. She let out a sigh and shifted on her feet, but he pulled his hands away before working her up too much. She let him direct her under the spray, rinsing off the suds, his face a study of concentration even though his arousal was making itself known.

She went up on her tiptoes to reach his jaw and mandible with her mouth, nipping and kissing him. He tilted his head down and captured her roving lips, while wrapping his arms around her to lift her off the floor. He turned off the water and backed them out of the shower stall into the cooler air of the suite without dropping her. She giggled at him. On their way to the bed, she saw a tray full of dishes and smirked at him.

“Not planning on leaving this room?”

“No,” he whispered, dark and earthy. “Not until we absolutely must.”

He laid her across the bed and leaned over her, dripping wet. She hadn't even noticed they hadn't toweled off, she was too caught up in his amorous mood. She wiped the beading water off his brow plates and got lost in the green of his eyes as he watched her. He was so breathtakingly beautiful to her.

“You know,” he said conversationally, bracing himself on his elbows over her, “we are on the top floor of this hotel. Do you know what that means?”

“The air is thin?” she quipped.

He shook his head, his eyes kindling like a fire. “No,” he whispered, lowering himself to kiss her. “It means no one will hear you when I make you scream.”

He worked his way down from her lips, across her throat to her collarbones, stopping briefly at her breasts and down her rib cage. He sipped up water from her stomach and spread her bent knees apart to finally rest between her legs. For a moment he looked up at her, his mandibles flaring in a grin. She didn't even have time to form a response of any kind before he dipped his head and swiped his tongue across her heat.

It was her first instinct to keep the noise she made swallowed in the back of her throat, but Nihlus growled, releasing a gasp from her that quickly rose into a moan as he applied the vibration of his subvocals against her. He pulled away and glanced at her.

“I want to hear you,” he said.

He slid his primary finger into her, curling it the way he knew would best build the pressure in her, make her strain for release. His tongue swirled around her clit, laving the sides and dipping between her folds, then flicking against the most sensitive spot. She arched her back and shouted. He did it again and again, until she grew hoarse. The tension spun out like a fine wire and then snapped all at once, leaving her heaving with a thunderous climax. He was watching her now, grinding herself on his finger as she rode the wave of her orgasm. He seemed pleased with himself.

“Jesus...fuck...” she breathed, limp and boneless on the bed. “God, I love you.”

He chuckled and she realized what she'd said.

“Shit, I didn't actually mean to say that out loud.”

“No? Pity,” he said, sliding up her body, still holding her spread open for him. He took himself in hand and guided his cock into her, seating himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. She lifted her legs over his hips and let him pull her arms over her head, pinning her beneath him. He pumped into her, filling her until she thought she might burst. Or scream. The look in his eye wanted the latter and she gave in to it, vocalizing with each thrust, feeling herself tighten around him as the pressure built again.

He knew what he did to her after all this time, knew what kind of pressure she liked, how hard he could fuck her, how long he could draw it out before she got either over-sensitized or frustrated. He let go of her hands and sat back against his spurs, lifting her hips so she was arched like a bow. His thumb pressed on her clit while his hips snapped into hers with hard jolts. She could feel her skin turning raw on the back of her thighs, but it didn't matter because his touch had electrified her nerves and when she came again she cried out as loud as she wanted, long and lingering as each spasm passed through her body. With a groan he followed her, clutching her tightly in his arms.

When he finally withdrew from her he laid his head on her chest, his body turned so his keel bone didn't poke her. “Spirits, Jehanne Shepard, I love you too.”

“Do you?” she whispered, near tears with the overwhelming emotion.

He lifted his head and pierced her with his gaze. “Don't ever doubt it.”


	9. Laughing Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuzzilla gets a new toy. Jayne and Garrus are beside themselves.

Jayne stopped in to an asari storefront in the marketplace, breathing deeply of the scent of familiar spices. She was getting around well these days, and had started doing the shopping herself while Garrus worked a few hours each day at the Primarch's office. This particular stop wasn't one she went to for idle chitchat and grocery items, however. At least, not today. She had ordered a package from Earth and it had finally arrived.

“Good day to you, Commander,” the proprietress said when she saw her.

“And to you. I got a message that my order was here, Ophynia.”

“I have it right here,” Ophynia said, with a gracious smile. Jayne signed a receipt and hefted the box, feeling it rattle.

“Thanks,” Jayne said, tucking the box under her arm. “You hear from your sister yet?”

“Oh yes, Commander. As soon as the relay network was back online, a flood of messages came through. She's safe. She was on Ilium for a time, but now she's back on Thessia working on a Reconstruction project there. Thank you again for taking the time to inquire for me.”

Jayne smiled and waved it off. “I didn't really do anything, just mentioned to the Council that there were people here still waiting on answers.”

“I know you don't think it was much, but it means everything to me, Commander.”

“Well, I'm glad I could be of service. And I'm glad she's safe.” 

She left the shop and decided walking all the way back to the apartment block was more than she could manage with a package even in her hardsuit and hailed a groundcar. Garrus was sitting at the kitchen table when she got in, a stack of hard copy papers in front of him.

“Hi, honey, I'm home,” she said with a cheerful lilt. Garrus snorted, but he stood to press his forehead to hers in greeting.

“Got your box?”

“Yup.” She opened the package and pulled out vacuum packed bags and containers of all sizes. Some went right to the fridge, others stacked on the counter. At the bottom, along with a note, was a small bag that crinkled when she touched it.

“What's that?”

Jayne sighed humorously, reading the note. “It's from Liara. It's entirely too eerie, having one of your best friends be the Shadow Broker.” _For Fuzzilla_ , the note said. _If he's anything like a tesh'ret, he'll love these_.

The bag held toys. The crinkling one was shaped abstractly like a bird, with a string attached to it so it could be 'flown'. Jayne went into the living room to see where her _churp_ was and found him sleeping curled up in a corner. She crinkled the toy in her hand and chuckled at his immediate response. He went from asleep to wide eyed and alert in a second, unfurling his plated body and trotting to her side. Holding on to the string end, she swung the toy in an arc, wondering if he'd leap at it.

He did.

He jumped into the air, all four legs splayed out as he tried to catch the bird on a string. Jayne giggled and sank down on the sofa to keep swinging it just out of his reach. Fuzzilla jumped again, managing to bat at the toy in midair before landing with a thump on the floor. Garrus came out of the kitchen and stood behind her, watching the spectacle.

They both laughed when Fuzzilla caught the crinkling bird between two paws and in the split second before landing realized he couldn't hit the floor gracefully with it. He let it go, but still plopped down on his side. He chirruped and skittered across the room, eyes wide and pupils so open they blocked off any of the gold of his irises. He crouched under the vid screen, his haunches wiggling so much like an Earth cat that Jayne couldn't help her laughter. She swung the bird and he charged across the room.

At the last second she pulled the toy out of his reach and he flailed in the air, trying to turn himself mid jump. Garrus guffawed and startled him into running full tilt down the hall behind them.

“You'll have to tell the Shadow Broker her gift was well appreciated,” Garrus said, still chuckling.

“Yeah.” The bird still crinkled in her hand and out of nowhere Fuzzilla leapt across the back of the sofa, landing between them with a sudden thump, his short tail swishing and his face startled to find himself suddenly there. “Is this what you want, Fuzzle?” she asked, showing him the toy.

The _churp_ squeaked at her and she tossed the whole thing across the room, sailing it in a graceful arc to bounce off the wall. Fuzzilla took off after it, his speed reminding her of turians in battle. The comparison made her laugh so hard her sides hurt.

Garrus went to take a turn of his own with the string and Fuzzilla jumped up straight into the air with a harried chirrup. He scattered across the floor, mumbling and squeaking the whole time, until Garrus picked up the toy and swung it around in the air. The churp rushed back, leaping through the air like he thought he could take flight. This time he caught it and they let him make off with his 'kill', their sides aching.

Garrus came back to the sofa and sat next to Jayne, pulling her close so they could watch their pet with his new toy. Fuzzilla curled up around it, kicking it with his back feet. Jayne leaned on Garrus, still smiling.

“Cats,” she murmured. “They're the same everywhere in the galaxy.”


	10. Cooking Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Garrus and Jayne. Everything tastes like chicken.

Jayne set the skillet on the stove to medium and dribbled oil in it to heat before she went back to dicing up the meat. Garrus, who was doing his own cooking next to her, glanced her way and made a choked off sound that caught her attention.

“What is _that_?” he asked, torn between aghast and amused.

“It's chicken.”

He leaned over her shoulder and poked at the chicken breast with a single talon. “This is the substance everything in the galaxy apparently tastes like? It's...not very impressive.”

She laughed, remembering very clearly how he and James used to one up each other between missions. She wondered for a moment where he was now, if he was still following Ash around like a lost puppy. She finished her dicing and took the whole cutting board to the stove to slide the meat into the hot oil before she set the board and knife in the sink.

“It's versatile,” she said. “Chicken goes with almost any seasoning, is tender enough for any kind of cooking and the birds grow fast enough that it's available year round. And wash your hands, raw meat has germs, ya know.”

“Is this what you ordered from Earth?” he asked as he dutifully ran his talons under the hot spray of the sink. The astringency of the soap mixed in with the cooking smells.

“Partly, yes. Levo protein paste has its place, and is edible if there's nothing else, but I missed real food.”

“I know the feeling.”

She knew he did. Years of being on a human ship meant very little dextro based food that wasn't nutrient bars or protein paste for him. She stirred her chicken around, seeing it turn crispy and golden, and leaned against the counter out of his way as he prepared his own meal. He layered thin slices of the animal most often used for protein among Palaveni turians into a pan to fry. She knew it was vaguely bovine, and it even tasted rather like beef to her, but she couldn't help but think of the creatures as rhinos with their heavy plating and rooting horns.

She went back to the fridge and pulled out a package of asari vegetables to go with her chicken, tossing in a handful to cook with the meat. Then she went through her selection of spices and herbs and sprinkled some of each over the meat – thyme, salt, garlic, a fine cracked asari pepper. She'd already made a batch of springy noodles to serve the whole thing over, whereas Garrus's meal was comprised entirely of his steak. They stood shoulder to shoulder at the stove, idly pushing each other back and forth in a playful way until the kitchen was filled with the scent of their dinners.

Jayne got down two plates and two forks from a drawer as Garrus shut off the stove burners. She handed him his utensils and plate and drained her noodles. Once they sat at the table Garrus leaned over and stabbed a piece of her chicken with his fork – well, what passed for a fork among turians, it still honestly reminded her more of a serving utensil, too long, only two tines, too sharp.

She leaned back in her chair and waited for his appraisal. He looked thoughtful for a moment before he began to chuckle. “All right, you win. It tastes just like gammok.”

She raised a brow and asked, “Would that be that flightless bird thing I've seen vids of turians chasing down?”

“Yeah.”

“So not only are cats universal, but chicken is too? No wonder everything tastes like. Everything _is_ it.” He began to reach for another piece as he laughed and she lightly smacked his hand back. “Eat your own food, dextro man. I've been waiting for this for six months.”

“All right, all right.”

They shared a toast with their respective drinks and a grin that united their disparate backgrounds and ate the rest of their dinner in relative peace.

Until he tried to take the last piece off her plate, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, this one came out very short. But padding it out seemed disingenuous just for the sake of more words. I'm pretty happy with it as is.
> 
> *Side note for folks who haven't read my series, neither Garrus or Jayne have chiral based allergies, so yes, they can try each other's foods, in moderation.*


	11. Comfort on a Rough Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henna Shepard and Garrus, just after Archangel.

Henna leaned her arms on the railing above the battery and sneaked a peak at Garrus next to her. The bandages looked more awful than he said they felt. Still, she would be happy to never see another turian she cared about bleed again.

 _Been through it with them both now_ , she mused and shook her head. _Nihlus, where are you?_

Two days of nothing, no word or message. She knew whatever mission he was on was important – certainly important enough that he couldn't drop it to come with her back to the SR-2 – and she tried to keep in mind that he'd spent two years without her, two years of working his way back into the good graces of the Council. He hadn't even told her what he was working on, since she had been effectively cut out of the loop as a liability due to her unwilling association with Cerberus. And if that didn't just beat the shit out of everything she was feeling. Resurrected, forced to work for a former enemy, zero resources, looming galactic threat, no one she could trust other than Garrus...

“Still worried?” he asked softly, as if he knew she was lost in thought and didn't want to interrupt. She pushed herself up by her elbows and turned to look at him fully. 

“He's never gone this long without checking in.”

“I'm sorry he couldn't come back to the ship, Shepard.”

“Garrus, I've been covered in your blood. Please call me Henna.”

His mandibles twitched, the injured one seeming to stutter and she realized it must hurt terribly for him to make facial expressions. That being noted, she couldn't help but appreciate the effort, just the same. She gave him a half smile of her own and began to pace back and forth across the spot he'd called home since being released from the Medbay.

“Henna,” he said, trying the name out. She stopped her pacing and glanced back at him. He'd turned away from his calibrations and was leaning a hip against the console, his arms crossed. “I'm sure he's fine.”

“I know,” she sighed and started pacing again. “I just...this whole thing...I...”

“Hey,” he called to her, pitching his subvocals over the underlying rumble of the ship. “He's fine.”

She took a steadying breath and tried to rein in her anxiety. It only partially worked. Garrus fidgeted with a buckle on his armor and seemed to come to a decision. He came over to her and laid a hand on her arm.

“I just hate having some many unknowns, ya know?” she said.

“Yeah, I know,” he nodded, the heat from his hand seeping through her sleeve. She didn't really think about what she was doing, she just nestled against him, tucking her head against his keel. She half expected him to jump or push her away and start spouting about the impropriety, but he didn't. His arm came around her, engulfing her in his embrace. He smelled like gun oil and overheated metal and the unique spicy leather scent all turians seemed to exude. It was very different from Nihlus, who was more shady back rooms and dusty books and spent heat sinks.

She didn't know how long they stood there, half in each other's arms, but when she pulled away from him, she didn't feel as frazzled. “Thank you, Garrus.”

His good mandible flared. “Any time.”

“So, tell me how the crew is treating you. No trouble, I hope?”

“They've been very...polite. I think being part of the team that helped you take down Saren helps. That and...well...”

“You're Archangel. Terror of Omega.”

He huffed, but it sounded more like humor than exasperation. “There is that.”

“The dynamic is weird here. On some levels this ship is even more regulated than ours was. But in others...” She made a formless gesture, a hand wave that encompassed all the bullshit she'd been through since waking up in the Lazarus Lab.

“I have to say they did a good job building it, although parts of it don't make sense to me.”

“How so?”

“Having the armory upstairs, so far away from the bay. That cabin up on top. That's not particularly good design, to put the captain in such a high risk spot.”

“Not to mention, someone thought it was a good idea to put a skylight in it.”

“You're joking!” he gasped. She shook her head ruefully. “Did no one think that maybe a woman who'd been spaced wouldn't want to see that?”

“Apparently not.”

“Oh, Shepard. That's awful.” His face was a picture of shock and for a moment she allowed herself to bask in his indignation on her behalf. She'd so missed having someone in her corner. “How do you sleep?”

“I...don't, usually. Or I sit at my desk, where I can't see it.”

“Shepard...you're not a turian. I don't think you can sleep sitting up very well.”

She snorted. He wasn't wrong, by any means. She had a permanent crick in her neck and she was exhausted all the time. She shrugged. It wasn't like she could do much about it. His expression turned calculating and without speaking, he pulled up his omni-tool and began running his primary talon through the glowing haze in a way that made her think he was drawing. She watched him, a faint smile on her face. Nihlus was right, Garrus really was endearing. _Wait...what?_

“All right, here's what we're going to do,” he said, breaking into her suddenly startling thoughts. He showed her what he'd done – a quickly doodled sketch of what appeared to be a blanket suspended from the ceiling by clips or magnets. “Next time we're at a port, I just need a few creds and I can get this rigged up in about ten minutes...I mean...if you want me to. Sorry, I didn't think...”

“No, it sounds great. You can have all the creds you want if you can get me to sleep in my own bunk.” _That sounded better in my head_ , she thought.

His eyes were glittering and his mandibles were twitching again. She fought the grin that was trying to escape for all of a few seconds before she let it out, followed quickly by laughter. He laughed with her, the sudden tension disappearing in an instant. He took her through his plan to cover the damned skylight and before she knew it, an hour had passed. Her own omni-tool pinged as Miranda messaged her for something or other and she realized how long she'd been in the battery.

“Garrus, I really am glad you're here,” she said as she got ready to leave.

“So am I...Henna.”


	12. Date Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nihlus encourages Henna to go on a 'date' with Garrus.

Henna had always been more comfortable in a hardsuit than a dress, which was why she had four sets of armor and only one set of formal wear that wasn't her dress uniform. But at Nihlus's urging, she went out and tried to find something suitable for a nice dinner in one of the little boutiques that seemed to be on every corner of Nos Astra.

It was strange to feel so giddy over this. Especially since she felt like it should also feel weird to be going out to dinner with someone other than Nihlus. But he wanted her to explore her options, see where her friendship and camaraderie with Garrus could go. If anywhere. She hesitated to call it a date, but Nihlus hadn't. And he'd been genuinely happy when he said it.

She made her purchase and hurried back to the ship. Once tucked safely in the Loft, she pinged the extranet address Nihlus had given her as she changed. She hoped that he would be able to vidcall instead of just chat this time, and was smiling when her terminal let her know she had an incoming call.

“Hi,” she said brightly when his red and white face took the place of her ship collection on the vid screen.

“Did you find something?”

“I did.” She twirled around for him, letting him see the subtle shimmers in the tunic style top. It hung down nearly to mid-thigh and she'd bought soft leggings to go with it for propriety's sake. She couldn't do anything about her footwear, but at least her parade shine hadn't lost any of its ability to make even her everyday boots look presentable.

His mandibles flickered in a smile. “Very nice. Green is a good color on you. His mandible will be on the floor.” 

“That's not precisely the idea,” she reminded him. He gave her a skeptical look across the lightyears.

“Uh huh, sure. Henna...look...”

She met his eyes. “You said I should go with it and figure this out. I'm going with it. Unless you're having second thoughts?”

He relaxed. “No, it's not that. I just don't want you to feel like you have to do this because I want you to.”

“I _like_ Garrus. I didn't agree to this because you wanted me to. I agreed because _I_ wanted to.”

“All right,” he grinned, at ease again. “Now get going. Have fun.”

She blew him a kiss and watched the screen disappear back into the ceiling, shaking her head at his whimsical happiness in seeing his girlfriend go on a date with someone else. Butterflies set up shop in her stomach, but she controlled them and went to meet Garrus at the airlock. He looked rather handsome in black civvies with white piping. _Remarkably handsome_ , she corrected mentally, feeling those butterflies escape to batter around her stomach again.

The restaurant was a simple affair, with separate menus for each of them based on chirality. She ordered something that claimed to be like a Cobb salad, eager for fresh greens, and Garrus ordered a dextro meal that resembled a whole shank of something that roamed a savanna. She laughed.

“You know there's a cliche among humans that women only eat salads, while men eat steaks on dates,” she said when she could. “But honestly, the thought of fresh produce was entirely too tantalizing.”

“Can't say I blame you there, shipboard rations can leave a lot to be desired.”

“Is that a complaint, Battery Officer?” she asked archly.

“No, Commander. Not exactly.” For a moment he looked stricken, as if a line had been crossed. She smiled at him, hoping to take out the sting, feeling like she'd really put her foot in it.

“Relax, Garrus. I'm not the Commander tonight.”

“So...just Henna?”

“That's right.”

Their food came and they ate companionably, sharing small jokes and stories as they dined. They lingered over coffee and what passed for it for turians. Then Garrus suggested a stroll along a tree lined boulevard, something of a rarity in Nos Astra. All around them other couples walked, a sea of shades of blue occasionally broken by alien faces like her own. She noticed quite a few salarians taking in the sights, and even a volus.

“Is this all right?” Garrus asked walking next to her and seeming a bit discomfited by it. He was too used to being on her six, she mused.

“This is lovely,” she replied. She dared to link their arms and he subtly transformed from at attention to casual, his face plates and mandibles relaxing as they walked. The boulevard led to a freshwater reservoir and they leaned on the fence overlooking it, watching birds settling down at the edges, causing ripples to spread out. The sun was setting, turning everything a glowing pink with shades of yellow, making the skyline across from them softer.

She shifted on her feet and brushed against Garrus's arm. He didn't startle, exactly, but he did turn a little towards her, his face unreadable. Suddenly she got lost in the blue of his visible eye and lost whatever murmuring apology she was about to make. The moment stretched, and something like tension grew between them, an invisible string slowly pulling them together. She noted idly that Garrus wasn't as tall as Nihlus as he bent towards her. She leaned in a little and their foreheads touched. She closed her eyes, feeling it every bit as strongly as if it were a human kiss.

“Henna,” he whispered. “I don't know where to go from here.”

“I don't either,” she confessed. Their heads were still connected at that single point of contact and she peeked upwards, meeting his eyes that were so close she could see the strands of color in them. Buried deep in the blue was a hint of green she wouldn't have seen from farther away. She waited to feel conflicted, or confused. But she felt only at peace. Without thinking about it too hard, she slipped her arm around him, only making sure to rest her arm against his ribs and not his waist. His returned the gesture, his hand coming to rest nervously on the upper curve of her hip. For a second, she felt his talons tighten on her, then consciously relax. “This is nice.”

“It is,” he agreed, his subvocals purring below his words.

“Garrus?”

“Hmm?”

“Are we making out in public?”

He snorted a soft laugh and it broke the seal of their forehead kiss. She worried that she'd ruined the moment, but he leaned towards her again, not quite touching, but definitely still present. “A bit, yeah.”

“Should we stop?”

“Do you want to?”

“Not really, no.”

He closed the last inch between them, his brow plate brushing her forehead again. “Good.”


	13. Mutual Pining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nihlus is not so secretly rooting for his love to add Garrus to the mix. Henna isn't so sure she's there yet. But she wants to be.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Nihlus muttered next to her, watching her watch Garrus where he worked in the forward battery. “You two need to just fuck already.”

“Nih!” Henna sputtered.

“What? The kid actually dropped his tools when you came into the cargo bay he was staring so hard. It made a horrible clatter. I just about jumped out of my plates.”

She sighed. “Calling him a kid doesn't do anything for your argument, you know.”

He poked her arm with the butt end of his fork – since they were catching a quick bite between planetary systems – and gave her a look. “Old habits and all that.”

“I'm not going to...to...just...”

“Fuck him,” he supplied when her voice fell silent. She made a face at him, then shook her head when he laughed. “Henna, my love, I know full well you adore him. And he practically worships the ground you walk on. I'm an old man, and I need some peace from all this tension.”

“I just don't know how fast I want it to go,” she said, trying hard not to laugh at his assessment of himself as 'old'. He was fifty one, hardly old for a turian. Her laughter suppressed, she decided she wasn't quite sure how far she wanted to take this conversation. At least while they were sitting in the Mess.

“I told you before, what you humans call polyamory with all sorts of connotations of it being taboo, turians call 'not uncommon'. When you spend a good portion of your life on active duty for the Hierarchy, there must be some maneuverability in your personal relationships if they're going to end in commitment. And there has to be a way to relieve stress in the moment that doesn't involve violence. That's just not healthy.”

“It just seems...I dunno...like a convenient way to cheat.”

He sighed, disappointed in her, it seemed. “There are rules. Agreements. Consent. We've talked about this. There are also far fewer inhibitions among turians in general. How did your race populate the galaxy with such backward sexual notions?”

She turned to him, ready to chide him, but she saw him smiling. He was teasing, of course. And when she thought about it, she had to agree with him. Humans must seem very prudish compared to the other Council races. Then again, it had been less than two generations since they thought themselves alone in the universe. The learning curve of galactic culture was steep.

“Didn't you enjoy your date with him?”

She huffed. “It was only a _date_ because you made such a big deal out of it.”

Nihlus leaned in close to whisper in her ear. The incongruity of his loving gestures combined with him asking about her with another man...turian...whatever...left her head spinning. It was a very strange place to be. Not bad, just strange. “Didn't you kiss him?”

“Yes, I did,” she said, her face burning up. It was a good kiss too, for a turian one. Dammit, now she was remembering it. Nihlus continued to chuckle at her side.

“Just fuck the boy.” He shoveled more of his dinner into his mouth and chewed quickly. Turian table manners tended to leave something to be desired in mixed company and he knew it. “If it makes you feel any better about it, wait until I'm back to this mission that keeps taking me away from you.”

“No, that doesn't make me feel better about it. That makes me feel like it's going behind your back.”

He put down his dinner and covered her hand with his, suddenly serious. “Henna, if you really don't want to do it, you know you don't have to. I don't want to make you feel like it's something I expect from you.”

She turned her hand over in his and laced their fingers together. The trouble wasn't that she was had a problem with it. Quite the opposite, in fact. Given the freedom to have them both, she would. She certainly had never expected to want such a thing, and she struggled to overcome an ingrained sense of _wrongness_ about admitting she was attracted to two men equally. Especially two turian men. Oh, she had heard the rumors about her and Nihlus, how she was a traitor to her race, an example of the lack or morality rampant in the Council. She was confident enough in herself and abilities to ignore those voices, to never answer questions in public. Ugh, that al-Jilani woman and her incessant mudslinging came to mind.

She squeezed Nihlus's fingers and leaned her head on his arm. “It's not that, Nih. I'm not opposed. I just...it needs to take its own course. In its own time.”

He made a subvocal sound of agreement. “All right. Just don't actively fight it if he's what you want too. That's all I'm saying.”

She snorted. “No it isn't.”

“I guess that's fair.” He nudged her back upright and they finished their meals. Garrus came down to the Mess from the battery and caught sight of them. Well, of her. The look on his face made her think he didn't even know the rest of the ship was there and she smothered a laugh. Nihlus didn't bother. “Just fuck him already.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I've had this conversation with a partner who'd never been in a poly relationship before. I thought a lot of these things before I had my first poly relationship. It takes a delicate balance and hard work to make it successful, not to mention a whole lot of scheduling. And there are a ton of preconceived notions about polyamorism to boot. Just like most relationships, you make it up as you go along, as long as everyone is on board. Communication, consent and cooperation are key. I call this the 3 C's rule and it is essential for any relationship I'm in, regardless of how many people are in it.
> 
> Got questions? Hit me up in the comments, or over on tumblr, same url.


	14. Public Displays of Affection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nihlus greets Henna after the Suicide Mission.

The Normandy limped into Omega, all of them tired, filthy and half dead. Garrus walked with Henna as they filed onto the station, Mordin directing the wounded to his old clinic, Miranda taking the rest for some leave at Afterlife. She leaned on Garrus, their steps in sync but equally as tired. All she wanted was a hot shower, a meal that wasn't prepackaged rations and...

“Henna!”

She looked up and saw Nihlus standing next to Aria T'Loak, a greeting committee she hadn't expected. She pressed her fingers into Garrus's arm, caught his smiling eyes and quick nudge and ran to her too often missing boyfriend. She crashed into him at full speed, knowing full well he'd catch her. And so he did. His arms came around her tight, their brows meeting in a turian kiss.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered.

“Charming,” Aria commented dryly.

“I told you she'd be back, Aria,” Nihlus said, running his talons through her hair. Henna tipped her head back and grabbed hold of his jaw to kiss him properly, observers be damned. His grip tightened on her and the kiss deepened to something much less appropriate for public, but she didn't care. She was breathless when he let her go. He looked over her head to see Garrus and held out his arm. Garrus took it firmly, something unspoken passing between them. She could guess.

_Thanks for keeping her alive._

_Thanks for trusting me with it_.

Henna realized with a jolt that this was the first time they'd all been together since being... _together_. She looked between them, so thankful to have them both. Aria was smirking at her.

“First time as a triple?” the asari asked.

“Yeah...”

“It takes getting used to. You'll get there. I suppose congratulations are in order, Commander. Well done taking down the Collectors.”

“Thank you.”

Aria nodded politely to them and went back to her club. Nihlus watched her go with an appraising look in his eye before he glanced back to Henna. “You must have impressed her pretty deeply. She doesn't usually offer praise for free.”

“Right now, I'm just happy to be back in what passes for civilization, so I'll take it.”

“I'm going to check in with Miranda,” Garrus said. “And then I'll make the rounds at the clinic. See you back at the ship.”

They watched him wander off, and Nihlus slung his arm over her shoulders. “Told you so.”

“Shush.”

He chuckled. “Henna, my love, you're good for that boy. Look at him, all upright and authoritative.” He caught her blush. “Hmm, I might need details.”

“No you don't.” She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his mandible. “I need a shower, a hot meal and a soft bed, not necessarily in that order. Think you manage that?”

He grinned at her. “I think so.”


	15. Established 'I Love You'**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jayne and Garrus on a rainy day.

Garrus stomped into the apartment and shook himself all over. He made a face and shook himself again. “Ugh.”

“I take it it's still raining?” Jayne asked, taking his visor from him as he stripped it off.

“Yeah. Got caught in it two blocks from home.” He started stripping out of his wet suit even before he was halfway down the hall to their room. “I forgot how much I hated the rainy season in Cipritine.”

“Oh, c'mon babe, it's not _that_ bad.” 

He poked his head back out of the door and glared at her, making her giggle. The rainy season was certainly something to behold, she had to admit. It came down in sheets and turned the surface roads into rivers. Thankfully, it only lasted a few weeks, but in that time, all of this region turned tropical. Many ground level shops and business closed up for the duration, or had temporary lodging at higher elevation. Even their apartment complex had an entrance midway up the building, for access by skycar. Jayne had learned there was a well practiced rhythm to the pace of life on Palaven, every bit as dictated by the weather as any other world she'd been on.

And certainly she was feeling the damp weather, even inside the apartment. Her knee – which had been doing so well – had grown stiff as the cybernetics reacted to the humidity. It wasn't painful, per se, just stiff. It gave her a tendency to stumble a little, which she did into the bedroom to see Garrus had pulled off the rest of his suit and was rummaging through a drawer for something dry to wear.

“You need to have Miranda check those servos again, don't you?” he said, his back to her.

Jayne smiled at her shook her head at his back. Underneath all his vaunted prowess as a sniper, as advisor to the Primarch, husband to the hero of the galaxy...he was still a C-Sec detective. “I love you, you know that?”

He craned his neck and met her eyes. His mandibles flared in a smile. “I know.”

She crossed their room before he could pull on any clothes and laid her cheek along his back, her arms around him. He covered her hands with his own. She pulled away after a minute, trailing her fingers across the bare skin of his waist, making him jump.

Quick as lightning he turned and took hold of her before she could move two steps away. He cupped the back of her head and kissed her. They'd been together for years, but still she clung to him, breathless as if it was new and fresh. He could still make her heart pound with a single touch.

And he could make her blood boil when he picked her up like that and braced her against a wall. “Something on your mind, babe?”

“You,” he purred, nipping a trail down her neck.

He held her fairly stable – as he always had – and she didn't even wobble as she reached down for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up over her head to toss somewhere among the laundry. Garrus made a happy sound and continued his trailing kisses to her collarbone and down towards the ball of her shoulder.

Still cradling her in his arms, he carried her from the wall to their bed, sitting down on the edge of it so she straddle his thighs. “You haven't lost that a bit, have you?” she teased.

“Helps that you weigh practically nothing.”

“Hmph, considering all four of my limbs are cybernetic miracles, I somehow doubt that.”

He grinned at her and raked his talons gently down her back, tugging the straps of her bra off her arms as he did. “Smooth move, babe.”

“I thought you'd appreciate it.”

She kissed him again and then grunted as her knee seized up. “As much as I'd love to stay just like this, I don't think my leg is up for it.”

Still light-hearted and playful, he turned with her in his arms so she was settled comfortably on her back. He pulled off her pants, underwear too, and then crawled up over her body to settle himself on top of her. He kissed her again, one hand wandering over her skin as he braced himself on the other. She was touching him too, tracing his plates, following the lines of skin between them. It wasn't long before he was hard against her, and she tilted up her hips in invitation.

They groaned together as he sank into her and for a while they both forgot about the weather, forgot her bad leg, they even forgot Fuzzilla, who appeared in the open door with a chirrup before dashing away when Jayne cried out particularly high. Garrus was chuckling as she rode the waves. She cupped his face in her hands, so overwhelmed with her love for him that no words came. He pulled away from her to sit back on his haunches, lifting her legs over his hips and using his hands between them. He brought her to another shattering peak that way before her followed her.

Afterwards, sweaty and sated and curled into him on her side, she traced his colony markings with a light finger. He shifted around, running his hand along her side and hip, staying flush against her in the curve of the bed. “You know what I've decided I love, too?”

“Besides me?”

“Yeah, besides you.” She leaned in and kissed him slowly, drawing it out. “I think I love the rainy season.”

“I just love you.”


	16. New Traditions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henna, Nihlus and Garrus, after the Reaper War.

“It's good to see this place is still here,” Nihlus said as they all got out of the taxi – a refurbished military jeep if Henna knew anything about groundcars. She smiled at him and tossed her head, happy to be in a city that wasn't completely demolished. Happy to show it off to Garrus, who'd had his doubts about it. She and Nihlus shared a grin.

“Good old Vancouver,” she said. She linked her arms with her two turians and felt giddy. The war was over, life was gaining ground on what it had lost and she was finally done with being a hero. “Garrus, did he tell you about this place?”

“A bit. You two met here, right?”

“We did,” Nihlus agreed, opening the door. “I've been back at least once every year since.”

“You have?” Henna exclaimed. “I didn't know that.”

He ruffled her hair, still short from where it had been shaved away after her recovery from the Crucible. “Well, you were dead for some of it.”

“Ugh, don't remind me.” But she was still smiling and he pressed his chin to the top of her head. The hostess saw them enter and approached, menus in hand.

“Welcome to Janus. Table for three? Oh, Spectre Kryik, it's you! This must be Commander Shepard then. I'm a big fan. I mean, obviously. We're still alive and all.”

“Thank you,” Henna said, keeping her chortles under control. There was no escaping it, everyone knew who she was now. At least being the savior of the galaxy had the perk of being popular.

“And that would make you Advisor Vakarian, right?” the hostess said to Garrus, who nodded. “Right this way, please.”

The restaurant was pretty empty, all things considered, but then again, it was a weeknight. Still, Henna was a little surprised there weren't more turians there, since it was one of the few places that had a full dextro menu.

“Slow night?” she asked the hostess as she slid into her booth seat next to Nihlus.

“Just for the moment, Commander. Turians have slightly different schedules than we do, you know. We've gone to 24 hour service with so many of them stationed at Alliance Command.”

“That makes sense then.”

They ordered their food and just shared the small silence of being together without imminent threats hanging over their heads. The food came and they ate, still with no more talking than 'pass the salt' and 'this is good'. It wasn't until they were winding down that a small crowd approached their table. Henna saw checks and aprons and realized it was the kitchen staff.

The head chef was carrying two desserts, one small, one much larger. He placed it on their table, the larger one sort of between Garrus and Nihlus. “For you, on the house,” he said. “With our thanks for...everything.”

Henna smiled at each member of the staff in turn, seeing their happy faces, their _free_ and _alive_ happy faces. “You're very welcome.”

The trio dug into their desserts and Henna laughed to see Nihlus and Garrus picking over their plate looking for the choicest bits. “We should come here more often.”

Nihlus glanced at her with a small flicker of his mandibles. “We should.”

“We met here, we ended here. It could become our family tradition.”

“Are we a family?” Garrus asked. “I mean, you two are.”

“You're part of that too,” Nihlus reminded him. “Even if you're too straightlaced.”

Henna nearly choked. She knew what he was actually saying and it wasn't about Garrus being uptight and formal. “Nih, not everyone is bi.”

“They should be.”

It was Garrus's turn to chuckle. “You're just jealous she can have me all to herself.”

Nihlus laughed and pressed his mouth plates to her temple to kiss her. “Maybe I am. Just remember I had her first.”

She leaned against him and reached across the table to hold Garrus's hand, his talons tight around her fingers. “No fighting, boys. There's enough of me to go around.”

She closed her eyes and tried to envision the future. Yearly visits to this place, maybe with children. The three of them, a unit indivisible by anything the universe could throw at them. She was content with that.

“I love you both,” she said softly.

They shared a grin with each other and then with her.

“Is this the part where we fight over the bill?” Garrus asked. Nihlus chuckled and she smiled. They all reached for their credit chits at once.


	17. Bonus Fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jayne and Garrus get the happy ending they deserved to get.

The weather evidently hadn't gotten the memo that this was an auspicious day, and it was raining buckets as Garrus, Castis, Solana and Jayne moved the very last boxes and crates from the car to the house. It meant she didn't need her protective umbrella from the sun, but that didn't matter much when she needed it from the downpour. Still, she took a moment to gaze up at what the Hierarchy had built for her and Garrus. Faced in light silver stone, the house was two stories tall, with wide windows facing each direction. It was light and airy, the floors of buttery Palaveni wood and the walls painted with more neutral tones than turians tended to use, a concession to Jayne's human sensibilities. She still hadn't gotten over how garish turian fashions were.

She gave the outside a final once over and went in, setting her dripping umbrella inside the door to dry. Garrus came down the hall that led from the kitchen, his mandibles spread wide. Fuzzilla followed him, chirruping. “They're on their way.”

Her heart skipped a beat as excitement filled her. This was it, the final piece to their fairy tale ending. They took a moment to hold each other and let the excitement build. Castis cleared his throat from behind them and Jayne peered around Garrus's arm to grin at her father-in-law.

“Any moment now,” she whispered. The family gathered in the new living room, still smelling of fresh paint and arranged themselves around the space. Jayne had a comfortable recliner brought especially from Earth, while the turians lounged on furniture suited to them. They waited.

A ground car pulled up their driveway and Jayne could barely restrain herself from running to the door. Garrus didn't bother to stop himself, bolting the few strides to open the front door wide to invite the newcomers in out of the rain.

A Hierarchy official, his colony markings contrasting on his dark plates, handed Garrus a datapad where he affixed his signature before handing it to Jayne. A nurse came in carrying a tightly wrapped bundle in one arm and a curved carrier in the other. A third official was bringing in gear from the ground car – seat bases and a booster, a pair of carryalls, and what appeared to be a small stuffed animal worn ragged but obviously loved.

It had taken nearly a year of diligent paperwork and shuffling from colony to colony back to Palaven, but now...it was time.

“Here's Surian,” the nurse said, handing Jayne the bundle. The toddler's eyes were wide as he gazed around the room, his tiny mandibles flexing with some anxiety. “Dextus fell asleep on the way here,” the nurse added, nodding towards the carrier.

Surian made a soft noise in his throat, a subvocal of distress. Jayne trailed her hand over the back of the boy's head, soothing as Castis had taught her. The last official finally unloaded all his stuff and came in with the stuffed animal, handing it to the child. Surian tucked it against his keel and his distress diminished.

“No more changes, no more war,” Jayne whispered to him, knowing he didn't understand, but hoping the tone of her voice would be enough. “You're home now.”

Garrus knelt down next to her in Surian's eye line and rumbled a soft sound. The toddler reached for him, for the familiarity of a turian voice. After all their years together, Jayne would never have guessed Garrus would come to parenthood so instinctively. The boy snuggled up to his cowl, small talons gripping the edge tight. The nurse was unbuckling Dextus from his carseat and then she handed him to Jayne.

“He's so tiny,” she whispered. Dextus was just past two years of age, and still looked like a baby compared to his older brother, still fuzzy around the edges of his growing plates. She'd always known turian babies were small, but it hadn't fully registered just how much smaller they were compared to human children. At four, Surian could toddle about, but Dextus was probably still crawling.

“We have a complete history of their family and clan,” the Hierarchy official said, pulling out a separate datapad. Castis took it, seeing as Jayne and Garrus both had their hands full. “The boys were born on the base on Menae, and evacuated in the first wave. There are still family members unaccounted for, but their parents' wishes were that as long as they were happy and stable, custody would remain with their adoptive family. With so much chaos still revolving in placing refugee children into homes, I applaud their foresight. On behalf of the Palaven Hierarchy and Primarch Victus, let me be the first to congratulate you both on your new family.”

“Thank you, Riel,” Garrus said.

Riel smiled and relaxed from dutiful official to coworker. “Your family leave begins now. Enjoy it, Garrus. I'll see you back in the office in a couple months.”

As quickly as they arrived, the officials and the nurse left, seen out the door by Castis as Solana cooed over the baby cradled in Jayne's arms. Dextus opened his eyes and waved a small fist in the air, his eyes almost the same blue as the Vakarians.

“He's gonna give you a world of trouble with those eyes,” Sol teased, glancing at her brother.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Garrus retorted, standing up smoothly with Surian, who seemed to be comfortable enough to let out a squawk like a giggle.

“Still worried you won't know what to do?” Sol asked Jayne, ignoring Garrus's rejoinder.

“A bit, yeah.”

“You're doing fine...Mom.” Dextus had latched on to Jayne's curls, now draping over her shoulders. He tangled his fingers in the strands, fascinated. He was distracted as Castis came back into the room and his smiled a toothless grin that made Jayne's heart squeeze. She looked at her father-in-law, so normally staid and proper, now making silly faces at the baby.

“Castis, congratulations are in order. You're a grandfather.”

The elder Vakarian came and knelt down by her, taking Dextus's wildly waving hand in his own. “So I am.”

“Gare, get over there on her other side,” Solana said, raising her omni-tool. “I need to capture this.”

Garrus stood behind Jayne's chair, Surian's serious little face peeking around his keel. Jayne held Garrus's free hand in hers and heard the pop of Sol's omni-tool as the picture was taken.

“Well, Jayne,” Garrus said. “Did you ever think we'd be here?”

“Nope,” she grinned. “But I'm so glad we are.”

He leaned down and kissed her. “Me too.”


End file.
